“You know, I could’ve dyed my hair myself,” Gwen huffed as you sit in your cramped shared apartment’s bathroom, music playing from her phone as you painted the pink into her hair. “I always do it myself.”

Gwen won’t admit that she liked that you were helping her out, but she can’t help but chuckle when she saw your face of precision as you dye her hair. She had grown to appreciate the more mundane activities you two do together; it’s a nice break from being Spider-Woman.